


College

by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Friendship, Gen, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: He smirks and takes another bite of his Twizzlers. They’re totally going to be friends.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	College

Junior year of college is a different kind of challenge. By the end of the month, he needs to have a summer internship procured. His father keeps calling him and his mother has texted him every morning for a month to remind him to take his medicine. She just overreacts when he misses a day every now and again. Not that forgetting to take very important medicine is okay but he’d suffered for those mistakes. He knows better than to do it on purpose.

Besides, he’s fine.

“I’ll be right back,” Malcolm promises his roommate. Jack is a very patient and forgiving man but those are traits one does acquire as the oldest of six siblings. It does sometimes mean that Jack can get a little maternal and Malcolm finds it both endearing and aggravating. 

To his surprise, Malcolm finds his rooftop hideout occupied. “You shouldn’t smoke,” he tells the silhouette. He can see the lit affliction between two long fingers. “It’s bad for your lungs,” he adds, stupidly. He’s never been good at making friends, Jack would probably point out that it’s because Malcolm sucks at small talk.

The smoker turns around and reveals a slender nose, defined cheekbones, and breasts. The way she twists on the edge of the roof pulls her shirt taut across her chest. She looks him down and turns back to her previous view. “You shouldn’t starve yourself,” she counters. She throws the blow nonchalantly over her shoulder. Not even bothering with him enough to look him in the eyes. “Don’t lecture me on smoking unless you’re interested in hearing about malnutrition, hypocrite.”

It stings. He’s the serial killer kid on campus, not the serial killer’s kid. Everywhere he walks, there’s an air of trepidation. The fear that someone might say something and set him off. But no one has ever taken a blow at him. At something, he can actually control. He’d know what to say if she threw his father in his face. 

His weight is something he’s struggled with for a very long time. It’s daunting. “Hey,” his voice croaks, and his cheeks flush at the way he betrays his emotions so clearly. “What’s your problem?”

She chuckles darkly, back still turned. “Nothing,” comes in a plume of smoke reaching up high above her head. “Not, at least, until you showed up.”

Malcolm looks back at the door and then to the ledge she’s sitting on. He just wanted to eat his Twizzlers in peace and now, when the world has thrown at him an opportunity to make a friend, he’s spit in its face. Moron. “Listen,” he trips on his shoelaces and finds himself on his hands and knees. He picks his hands up, their shaking worse now than before. Blood is already pooling up at his palms. 

“A clutz and a hypocrite,” but at least this time she doesn’t sound so menacing. 

He stands, knees shaking beneath him. He’s all too familiar with the feeling of weak, shaking eating up his body. It’s been too long between meals and now he’s either going to pass out while the pretty smoking girl watches or he’s going to have to eat the Twizzlers in front of her.

Drawing in a steady breath, he takes another step towards her. This time he doesn’t fall. “I’m sorry,” he says to her back. “Forgive me?” Coming up to her side, he offers her his hand.

She looks at his hand, bleeding and dirty and then at him. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he was born. “Dani,” she accepts his handshake. “And you’re Malcolm Whitley, right? I’ve seen you around.” She draws her elbows in as he throws a leg over the edge, sitting himself down right beside her.

He pulls a bag of Twizzlers from his pocket. Compulsively, he bites the ends of them off first. He takes great measures to bite off the exact pieces of Twizzler. Once he’s bitten both ends he addresses her question. “Yeah.” He smiles as he remembers a great conversation starter is something relatable so he asks, “what’s your major? I’m psychology.”

Her eyebrow twitches but she answers, “criminal justice.” 

Dani looks at the Twizzler in his hand, the way he seems to only take the smallest bites off. “So,” she pulls from the cigarette slowly. “You have an eating disorder? My roommate’s sister does. She had to drop out because of it.” She flicks the rest of the cigarette over the edge, leaning forward to watch it drop. 

His anxiety skyrockets watching her lean over. A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest and he runs a hand over his face self-consciously. “Uh, no.” He rubs at the back of neck as his face heats up. "I don't-I don't have an eating disorder."

It’s Dani’s turn to blush. Right, her and big ass mouth. “Fuck,” she mumbles, seeing just enough of his reaction to really feel guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m in a really bad and -” she has no idea what to say. What little that she knows of Malcolm White is wrapped up in his father. Everyone in the building feels pretty unanimously the same way: he’s someone to avoid at all costs.

“It’s okay,” he brushes it off. Jack is his only friend, the only person who knows anything about him. Everyone else is just afraid of him but no one's bothered to know him. "I'm on some-" he glances at her, wondering just how carefully he needs to pick his next words. "I'm on heavy medications. I've got anxiety and-and post-traumatic stress."

He watched her hands. She's pulled them into her lap, picking the dark fingernail polish off. "Oh."

Malcolm digs another Twizzler out, hesitates, and gets two. He offers it to her, tapping it against her fingers. "Most things don't settle well with the medicine. Twizzlers, though, " he shrugs. 

She takes the Twizzler, watching him perform his odd ritual with the ends again before taking a bite of her own. He's strange but oddly… sweet. "You're weird, " she bounces her legs off the wall. "I like you."

He twists the Twizzler around in his hands, frowning at her. He can honestly say he wasn't expecting that. "I thought I was a malnourished hypocrite clutz?" 

She smiles, " you are but… I don't know, you're weird. It's… refreshing."

He considers this and nods. "Oh, " he bites the Twizzler. "Friends?"

She rolls her eyes, " don't get ahead of yourself, pal." 

He smirks and takes another bite of his Twizzlers. They’re totally going to be friends.


End file.
